


Escaping the Red Mile

by SerenitysSwirl



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Ancestors as Parents, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Gen, Humanstuck, Red String of Fate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-28
Updated: 2014-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-21 01:54:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1533377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerenitysSwirl/pseuds/SerenitysSwirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It just so happens that today, your sixteenth birthday, you will finally see who is at the other end of that supposed red string. Your name is Tavros Nitram and you have a bad feeling about this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 16 Years

**Author's Note:**

> To be clear, this is not a fic that is meant to be shippy; this is a fic about Tavros. I feel the need to include a warning for some bullying and mental abuse. I'm not really sure how far I'm going to go with that (probably not too much), but it's only fair to warn. Enjoy!  
> EDIT: now hover over italicized words for the translation!

            Your name is Tavros Nitram, and it just so happens that today, April 20th, is your sixteenth birthday.

            You don’t have much planned this morning. Maybe you would go out to eat with your father, watch some TV, or pester your friends; it was all up in the air. The main event would be this afternoon, because that is the exact moment of your birth and everyone knows that—

            Oh, hold on, someone seems to be trying to contact you.

            You rise from your disheveled bed, mohawk bouncing in a tangled mass. The sunlight streaming from the window makes your tired eyes squint as you shuffle to the computer chair. Sitting, you eye the flashing icon on your computer and grin. You weren’t surprised to be receiving a message from her.

\--apocalypseArisen [AA] began pestering adiosTorador [AT] \--

AA: tavr0s!

AA: tav

AA: wake up already!

AT: i’M HERE!

AT: aRADIA i THINK YOU NEED TO, bE MORE PATIENT, eSPECIALLY WHENEVER, tHIS IS A DAY tHAT IS VERY IMPORTANT,

AT: dO YOU KNOW WHAT, tODAY IS?

AA: ummm

AT: ,,,

AA: sunday?

AT: uHH,,

AT: wAIT SO YOU,, rEALLY DON’T, kNOW WHAT TODAY IS?

AA: n0t a clue!

AT: oH,,, wELL THEN, i GUESS,, uH,

AA: g0t y0u! :D

AT: yOU,

AT: aRADIA! tHAT WAS MEAN, :(

AA: haha s0rry! i just wanted t0 pull a little prank 0n the *birthday b0y*

AT: oH, wELL,,

AT: yEAH, i GUESS THAT WAS PRETTY FUNNY!

AT: rEALLY HAD ME GOING,,

AA: s0rry ab0ut that but this is n0t the m0st imp0rtant thing we need t0 be talking ab0ut!

AT: wHAT’S MORE IMPORTANT, tHAN TALKING ABOUT MY BIRTHDAY, aND ABOUT HOW SORRY YOU ARE, fOR BRUISING MY EGO?

AA: tavr0s i think that anything w0uld pr0bably be m0re important than that

AA: anyway t0day is the day y0u will be able t0 see y0ur string! are y0u excited? nerv0us?

AT: kIND OF HUNGRY, mOSTLY,

AA: tavr0s!

AT: i HAVEN’T EATEN BREAKFAST YET! yOU PESTERED ME RIGHT AS, i WOKE UP,

AA: i d0n’t care! tell me ab0ut y0ur feelings!

AT: oH, wELL,,

AT: uH,, rIGHT NOW, i FEEL A LITTLE,

AT: nAUSEOUS,,,

AA: what? whats wr0ng?

AT: sHE’S,,,pESTERING, mE,,,

AA: WHAT!?

AA: tavr0s please please just ign0re her

AA: tavr0s???

\--adiosTorador [AT] is now an idle chum!--

AA: DAMMIT TAVR0S

You stare at the blinking dot in horror. You thought she was out of your life for good. You thought you were done with the teasing, the bullying, the senseless harassment. Your computer claims otherwise.

Hand shaking, you click on her username.

\--arachnidsGrip [AG] began pestering adiosTorador [AT] \--

AG: Heeeeeeeey Toradork.

AG: Toradum8.

AG: AdiosLoserdor.

AG: Fucking hurry up jackass I’m running out of insults!!!!!!!!

AT: i’M, uM,, pRETTY SURE THAT, “jACKASS”, iS STILL AN INSULT,

AG: There you are! What were you doing, ignoring me or something?

AT: uH,,, yES,

AG: WOW. And here I thought we were grown up now and could communicate like adults.

AG: 8ut oooooooo8viously you are such a child that you can’t even talk to me properly! Your loss!

AT: i, dON’T REALLY AGREE,, bUT OK,

AT: iS THERE ANYTHING, sPECIFIC, tHAT YOU NEEDED, tO TELL ME? oR CAN i GO NOW?

AG: Can’t I just wish my 8estest 8uddy a happy 8irthday? You act like you actually have somewhere 8etter to 8e.

AT: wELL, cONSIDERING WE HAVEN’T TALKED, sINCE YOU STARTED TO BE, eMOTIONALLY DAMAGING,, aND KIND OF A JERK, i DON’T THINK THAT, tHERE WOULD BE A WORSE PLACE, tO BE,,,

AT: wHY DO YOU EVEN, cARE ABOUT MY BIRTHDAY, aNYWAY?

AG: Really hitting me with the low 8lows today, eh, Toradipshit?

AG: For your information, I am simply curious a8out how you are.

AG: And I’m also curious a8out the wherea8outs of the other side of your f8string. :::;)

AT: i DON’T BELIEVE THAT, bUT, sINCE YOU ASKED,,

AT: yOU KNOW THAT i, wON’T BE ABLE TO SEE MY, rED STRING UNTIL AROUND NOON,

AG: Yes, 8ut! Who do you THINK it will 8e?

AT: i’M NOT SURE, aCTUALLY,, sINCE i DON’T NECESSARILY HAVE TO, kNOW THEM 8EFOREHAND,

AT: i MEAN BEFOREHAND,,,,

AG: Suuuuuuuure you do. ::::P

AG: Anyway, don’t you at least have a gu8ss????????

AG: Some girl you’ve 8een fawning over and wou8d just loooooooove t8 see at the other en8 of that str8ng????????

AT: uM,,,vRISKA? aRE YOU,, oK?

AT: yOU SEEM TO, uH, bE USING EIGHTS, a LITTLE MORE LIBERALLY, tHAN USUAL,,

AG: I’m perf8ctly fin8!!!!!!!! 8ut you shou8d reeeeeeeeally tell me. Just to, I d8n’t know! Get your feelings out.

AT: i THINK THAT YOU ARE, gETTING A LITTLE WEIRD,, aND i SHOULD LEAVE,

AG: AUGH. You are IMPOSSI8LE to talk to! ::::/

AT: oK, WELL,, i’M GOING TO BLOCK YOU,

AG: WH8T????????

AT: aCTUALLY, i ALREADY DID, bUT FOR SOME REASON,, yOU ARE TALKING TO ME RIGHT NOW? hOPEFULLY, iT WILL WORK THIS TIME,

AG: Tavros, don’t you dare! We st8ll hav8 8mportant th8ngs t8 d8scuss!!!!!!!!

AT: wELL,, tHEN YOU’LL HAVE TO, fIND SOMEONE ELSE, tO DISCUSS THEM WITH,

\--adiosTorador [AT] blocked arachnidsGrip [AG] \--

AG: NITRAAAAAAAAM

            You feel a little bad about that. It seemed like she was trying to extend an olive branch, and yet…she hadn’t changed at all.

            You consider confiding in your imaginary friend, Rufio, but that was another one of the things that Vriska had made you feel ashamed of. You hadn’t even thought of Rufio for months, but the desire to talk to him, despite his obvious intangibility, grew strong. Maybe you would do so after calming down a bit.

            In the meantime, Aradia was pestering you.

\--adiosTorador [AT] began pestering apocalypseArisen [AA] \--

AA: tavr0s! there y0u are!

AA: i was getting w0rried

AA: are y0u 0k?

AT: i,,

AT: tHINK i’M FINE?

AT: sHE WAS AS NOSY, aND INTIMIDATING AS USUAL, bUT THEN SHE STARTED, aCTING REALLY WEIRD,,

AT: aSKING ABOUT MY STRING,

AA: hm that is weird! y0u really sh0uld bl0ck her tavr0s

AA: i mean i kn0w y0u tw0 have hist0ry but…

AT: iT’S OK, i ALREADY DID,,

AT: i THINK THAT i’M GOING TO GO, aND EAT BREAKFAST, bUT FIRST, cAN i ASK YOU SOMETHING?

AA: sh00t!

AT: oK WELL,,

AT: wHAT WAS IT LIKE, gOING TO THE END, oF YOUR STRING, aND FINDING sOLLUX?

AA: well i was sh0cked at first! i hadnt really expected them t0 be any0ne that i knew but…

AA: as s00n as i saw him it s0rt 0f felt…right

AA: like things made sense

AA: d0es that make sense??

AT: nOT REALLY,, bUT,,, i GUESS i SORT OF, GET THAT,

AT: i’M JUST,, tRYING TO PREPARE MYSELF,

AA: 0h tavr0s im sure y0ull d0 fine!

AA: its the string 0f fate

AA: its meant t0 be

AT: bUT,,

AT: wHAT IF IT ISN’T?

AT: i’VE HEARD OF PEOPLE, sEVERING THEIR STRINGS,

AA: …

AA: well…

AA: i guess it d0esnt always w0rk 0ut…fate d0esnt always turn 0ut the way y0u think it will

AA: but even then im sure that y0u c0uld find s0me0ne else!

AT: tHANKS aRADIA,

AA: n0 pr0blem!

AT: I’M GOING TO GO, bUT THANK YOU, aGAIN,

AA: alright! bye :D

AT: bYE, ;)

\--adiosTorador [AT] ceased pestering apocalypseArisen [AA] \--

            You push away from your computer desk, rising to your feet.

            You hoped that the rest of your day would get better.

            With a yawn, you move to your bedroom door, opening it and entering the hallway. You pass your father’s room and find it empty. Hearing sounds from the kitchen, you walk in that direction, still feeling groggy.

            You pass the living room and make it to the kitchen, an intoxicating aroma tickling your nostrils. Smelled like—

            “ _Hola_ , Tavros,” his father says, bent over the stove, “would you like some _huevos_ while I finish the _tocino_?”

            You blink, brain a little slow to translate the bits of Spanish. While your dad was born and raised in Spain, you had resided in America from day one. You knew a lot of Spanish, but you were much more fluent in English and most of the conversations between you and your father were in English.

            “ _Sí_ ,” you say with a grin, seating yourself at the table in front of a plate of eggs.

            For a while, the only sound is the scraping of the fork on your plate and the bacon popping and sizzling in the pan.

            You don’t look up as your dad turns off the oven and sets the bacon on a plate. He sits down across from you, quiet, and you can feel his eyes.

            “…Yes?” you ask, finally glancing up.

            Your dad has his elbows rested on the table, eyebrows raised, grin wide. He chuckles. “So…?” he says, waving a hand, “happy birthday, _hijo_.”

            You grab a piece of bacon, saying, “thanks, Dad,” before taking a bite.

            He’s still staring at you, looking excited.

            You glance away, becoming nervous. “Um, what is it? You’re acting strange.”

            Your dad smiles, brown eyes, that were identical to yours, shining. “You’re just getting so old, I can’t believe it. It seems like just yesterday you were toddling around in diapers—”

            “Daaad…”

            “—and now, here you are, a young man. Today you will find the love of your life as I had found mine.” He raises a hand over his heart, saying in a reverent tone, “Hopefully yours does not meet the same fate that she did.”

            You lower your eyes. You never knew your mother, only had hazy memories, and your father didn’t talk about her much.

Unsure of what to say, you nod.

            Your dad coughs into his hand, his composure turns strong again. “Now, enough of that,” he says, patting your hand that was resting on the table, “I have a gift for you!” He stands, leaving you alone in the room.

            You smile to yourself, wondering what he could’ve gotten you. By the time he returns, you’ve finished the eggs.

            “Your _regalo_ ,” your father says upon his entrance.

            With a small laugh, you take the present and give it a shake. Your dad smacks the back of your head, scolding you, but you knew that he wasn’t mad.

            You tear at the blue wrapping, finding yourself holding a colorful box.

            “You don’t already have that one, do you?” your dad asks.

            You stare at the box, then look up at your father, then look back at the box.

            It was a rare Fiduspawn collector’s set with a hundred-plus playing cards and figurines of characters you’ve never even seen before.

            After reading the back, you were almost vibrating in your seat. Previously, you’d begun to taper away from your Fiduspawn addiction because of Vriska. She called it a juvenile game for 8a8ies who didn’t know what real entertainment was. It didn’t take you long to get back into the game after cutting her out of your life, and you were excited to invite over your friends to try playing it again.

            “Like it?” your dad asks, looking nervous from your silence.

            You jump from your chair, hugging him tightly. “ _Gracias, Papá_.”

            You feel him sigh against you and nod, hugging you back.

            You pull away and flash him a smile, saying, “I’m going to go to my room and open this up.”

            Your dad ruffles your dark brown hair. “Go on, _niño_.”

            Turning, you hurry out of the room, down the hallway, and into your bedroom. A quick glance at the clock tells you that it was 10:12 AM. You had about two hours until you would leave, which you realize you’ve yet to explain.

            Everyone has a red string that connects them to their soulmate. It was only until sixteen years after the time of your birth that you can actually see it. In only a few short hours, you would be seeing this string tied around your left ring finger, leading you off to your fate. You just hoped that they were in walking distance.

            The string could be severed and reattached, but it was uncommon for a broken string to find another other half.

            Sitting down on your bed you sigh, eyeing your ring finger.

            Today was going to be…interesting. You just had a feeling.


	2. Of Fate and Folly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, i didn't think i'd be able to post anything today, but i did! yay? anyway, SUPER IMPORTANT THING>>> i'm now coding this so that if you hover over any italicized Spanish words, it will show the translation. i've fixed the 1st chapter this way as well. I'm using various online translators as reference, so if you have a more accurate translation, then feel free to tell me!  
> Also, holy shit, i fucked up somehow with the pesterlog coding on this one. nep's arrow thing didn't work so i changed it to > and something went wrong along the way. but either way,,,*TA-DA*

            You sit cross-legged on your brown bedspread, cards and figurines splayed out around you. It wasn’t as fun playing Fiduspawn by yourself than it was with a group, but you’ve learned to make your own fun.

            “What if it accidentally breaks? Can that happen? I’ve never heard of that happening, but what if it did? And also—” You stop talking and look up from your game. “Hey, uh, I don’t think that’s how he’s actually supposed to be used…”

            Rufio was sitting in your computer chair, playing with Horsaponi, making him buck and whinny. You’ve tried explaining before that it wasn’t an actual horse, but he never seemed to care.

            You sigh, resting your head in your hand. “I don’t know, maybe I’m overthinking it. I guess I just don’t understand how someone you’ve only just met could be your ‘soulmate’.”

            You don’t know how long you’ve been talking for. Rufio would sometimes sit with you as you voice your problems, and you knew he didn’t mind. You knew this because he is a good listener. Well, and also because he is imaginary.

            The trading card warps in your hand as your fingers tighten. “And what if I do know them? Would that be awkward? I think it would be and—” your mind drifts and you take in a sharp breath, feeling your chest clench. You whisper, “What if they’re…why if they…”

            You pause, looking over at Rufio who was looking blankly back at you.

            Whenever you were younger, Rufio would talk to you and give you advice. The two of you would go on adventures together and you thought he was so great with his red-streaked hair and ripped clothing. He’d secretly been your best friend, despite all the other friends you’d had. There’d been a noticeable change by the time you got to middle school, though. He was less verbal. You imagined him less. When he did pop up, he would sit there, listening, without saying much. It had been a little disheartening at first, but you realized that maybe he was just giving you an opportunity to figure out your problems yourself. For that, you were grateful.

            Now, he raised his eyebrows, as if questioning you.  
            You say, glancing back down at your hands, “I know, I’ve never worried so much about this before, but I guess Aradia and… I guess she just got me thinking.”

            Rufio nods with a contemplative look. “And the other girl? Are you worried about her as well?” he asks.

            You jerk your head up. “What about her? I mean, yeah, I’m kind of scared that she contacted me, but I don’t really want anything to do with her anymore.”

            “Do you think it will be that easy?”

            “I…” your breath catches in your throat and you have to force yourself to calm down. You didn’t want a replay of the events leading up to freshman year. You were done with trying to please her, and feeling like you had to, only to be trampled on.

            You were also weak, and you knew that even if you tried your hardest, you weren’t positive you’d be able say no.

            “No,” you respond, “but I have to try.”

            Rufio nods, setting Horsaponi on your desk.

            “The string,” he says. “What if they aren’t local?”

            You shrug. “I guess it isn’t too important. We’ll meet up eventually. Hopefully they like Fiduspawn,” you say with a grin.

            Rufio gives you a rare smile, looking at the paraphernalia spread out on your bedspread.

            The moment is interrupted by the ping of your computer, and you rise to your feet to see who it is, bed creaking with your weight. Rufio stands as well, moving out of the way, and when you turn to look at him, he’s gone.

            You’re a little sad that he left, but you sit down in your computer chair anyway, turning to look at the screen. You’d talk to him again, soon.  


            \--arsenicCatnip [AC] began pestering adiosToreador [AT] \--

            AC: :3 > *ac sneaks up on tavros*  
AC: :3 *she then pounces on him from behind!* its your birthday! *she says*  
            AT: oH HI nE  
            AT: i MEAN,,  
AT: hI nEPETA, *iS WHAT HE SAYS, bY WHICH i MEAN, MYSELF,*  
            AC: XP > tavros im sorry but you suck at rping  
            AC: :3 > terezi is much better  
            AT: oH, uH,, sORRY,,,  
            AC: :3 > its purrfectly fine silly! but I wanted to ask you  
            AC: :3 > what sort of sw33t loot did you get today?  
            AT: dAD GOT ME, sOME MORE fIDUSPAWN STUFF!  
            AT: yOU CAN COME OVER, fRIDAY, aND PLAY IF YOU WANT,  
            AC: :3 > what a pawsitively great idea! should i ask efurryone else if they want to join?  
            AT: sURE! nOW THERE WILL BE, mORE PEOPLE FOR ME TO BEAT,  
            AC: :3 > ha! as if! i won last time remember?  
            AT: yEAH, wELL,, i LET YOU WIN, bECAUSE IT WAS YOUR FIRST TIME, pLAYING,  
            AC: :3 > i dont believe that at all! but i guess well just have to s33 for ourselves  
            AT: mAY THE BEST PLAYER, wIN, >:)  
AC: >:3 > youre on!  
            AT: hEY, wAIT,,  
            AC: :3 > hm?  
            AT: iT’S ALMOST NOON,,,  
AC: :3 > so…?  
AC: :O > *GASP*  
            AC: :O > wait! is that when youll m33t your soulmate???  
            AT: yEAH,, i SHOULD PROBABLY, gET GOING,,  
            AC: :3 > GO! omg im so excited i furrgot about that!  
            AT: oK, i’LL TALK TO YOU LATER, aND WE CAN GET EVERYONE TOGETHER, aND PLAY fIDUSPAWN,  
            AC: :3 > sure! ill pester them for you but right now you n33d to go!  
            AC: :3 > 3333 ill get to add another ship to my wall!!  
            AT: nEPETA,,,,  
            AC: :3 > h33 h33 sorry  
AC: :3 > but go! s33 you tomorrow!  
AT: bYE, :)  
            AC: :3 > :3333  
            \--adiosToreador [AT] ceased pestering arsenicCatnip [AC] \--  


            You push away from your computer, standing. You hadn’t noticed the time until then, it had passed so quickly.  


            You were about to leave when you look down at your clothes. Were you underdressed? It was the usual t-shirt-jacket-jeans combo and you felt like it looked like you weren’t even trying. Of course, you didn’t want to seem like someone who dressed up all the time if your regular style was somewhat sloppy.  


            Figuring that this would be as good as it would get, you exit your room and stop by the living room, where your father was channel surfing on the couch. You open your mouth to excuse yourself, but he turns with a wink and says, _“prisa, tu amor está esperando!”_ You blush and rush towards the door, hearing his laughter echoing after you.  


            You walk out of your house and down the porch steps to the sidewalk where you pause for a moment. It was a sunny Sunday with a clear sky and a warm breeze. It made your heart feel light and relieved a little of the pressure that had put itself on your shoulders.  


            You and your father lived in a relatively small neighborhood. The houses were quaint, the yards small, and the traffic low. The sidewalk leads you to the right, and you start heading towards the more populated side of town. You figure you might as well wander around until you could see the string; you still had a few minutes.  


            You travel a few blocks and find yourself at a small corner store, which was the mark of the business side of town. You contemplate going inside, but you didn’t really want anything and your restlessness was building.  


            People pass you, staring straight ahead, unknowing of your growing apprehension. You tug at your collar, you look at the ground.  


            A child bumps into you, not stopping to apologize as her mother chases after her.  


            The sun blinds your eyes, and you can’t see anything until it ducks behind a cloud.  


            The people are clamoring around you.  


            They could be right there.  


            They could be right there.  


            You pause to lean on the wall of the closest building, trying to calm down. You wished you could stop freaking out, but this whole thing was making you nervous.  


            Taking a deep breath, you push off of the wall and continue walking, legs weak. You were also sort of wishing that you’d brought a watch, because you had no idea how much time oh and look there it is.  


            You stare in awe as your left hand burns with scarlet light. A strand of it wraps itself around your ring finger and ignites its trail out of your hand and down the street. Chest pounding in excitement, you follow the string, careful to keep yourself from running.  


            The string leads you around a right turn, then across the street, straight, left, right, left, straight, right. You glare straight ahead in concentration, keeping to the path.  


            Just when you’re starting to wonder how long this is going to take, you notice that the line of red bends into the doorway of a diner. Your eyes widen and your heart skips a beat. They were here. In your town. Right through those doors.  


            Weaving your way through the people, you make it to the diner and slip inside.  


            A waitress tries to seat you, but you ignore her, instead latching onto the string and pulling it as you walk.  


            Your head was down, and you keep going until you hear your name.  


            “Hey, Tav.”  


            You look up and your stomach twists.  


            Surely not…surely you weren’t…  


            The boy who spoke was Eridan Ampora, who gives you a strange look. He was sitting in a booth, facing you. You scramble to look at his hands, but they were rested on his seat and you couldn’t see them.  


            “I, uh, um…” you choke, unsure what to say.  


            He raises an eyebrow, squinting his dark eyes. “The fuck’s wrong with you?”  


            “I, uh, I just—”  


            “Wow, Tavros, you don’t even say hi to me? Ice cold, Nitram. Ice cold.” You look over to the source of the new voice and find that Eridan was not eating alone.  


            She had think black locks pulled back in a ponytail, and her cold blue eyes gazed up at you through rounded glasses. Vriska grins, her black lipstick making it look menacing.  


            “Oh, hi, Vriska,” you mutter, heart jumping to your throat. Just the sight of her put you on edge. You felt like a caged animal, and she was staring at you through the bars.  


            “That’s more like it!” she coos. “Want to sit, or are you just going to stand there gawking all day?”  


            “Well, actually, I—” You’re then reminded of the string wrapped around your finger, and you reach down to pluck it back up.  


            Eridan sits there, confused, while Vriska looks interested.  


            You tug on the strand, untangling it and moving your fingers down it until your hands are underneath the table.  


            “What the fuck?” Eridan exclaims, pushing at your hands with a scandalized look. “Get your hands outta here you perv!”  


            “No, that’s not actually what I’m trying to do,” you sputter, pulling harder at the strand. You huff in frustration. “Uh, would you two put your hands on the table? That would be a lot more convenient, I think.”  


            Vriska and Eridan glance at each other for a second before the Serket shrugs and moves her hands. Eridan sighs, placing his hands on the surface as well.  


           Your fingers scramble down the string, searching for the end, and…your right hand meets Vriska’s left. Her head snaps up, eyes wide. Slowly, her smile spreads. She says, “I can see it.”  


            “Holy shit,” Eridan mutters as you stare down in horror.  


            This couldn’t be happening. It was all a joke. Yes, a joke! An elaborate hoax that the universe has played on you! But the string is tied around Vriska’s finger, as it is yours. Your eyes aren’t deceiving you this time. It’s as real as the waitress that brushes by you or the light streaming through the window or that stupid streak of plum in Ampora’s hair. This wasn’t made up like Rufio and Horsaponi. This was real life.  


            She’s smiling.  


            You don’t know why she’s smiling but it reminds you of something slimy and predatorial.  


            “This is great, isn’t it?” she asks. “Hey, at least we know each other, right?”  


            Somehow she knows how to creep into your core and find exactly what’s bothering you and use it to her advantage. And yet…  


            There’s something about Vriska’s look that is familiar. She looks almost normal, sitting in a diner, drinking a Coke. You feel as if you’re under a spell.  


            Vriska grabs your arm, pulling you so that you’re sitting next to her. Her arm wraps around your waist and she laughs. You find your mouth twitching upwards as well. Eridan shakes his head and returns to his meal as you look down at your…soulmate. Your f8m8, as she would say. It’s that feeling you get when a teacher tells you to grow a spine, and you have to be polite and smile and nod.  


            “And you thought that you could get away from me,” she says, looking up at you slyly.  


            “Boy was I wrong,” you mutter, glancing away.  


            But she looks so happy, so pleased, and how could that possibly be bad?  


            You vaguely wonder if this is what Stockholm Syndrome feels like.  


            _Mierda._


End file.
